02-11-2022, 01:58 PM
Nisha the Saleswoman
Before moving to Canada, Nisha stayed in Bangalore with her husband. This is a story of those times.
N.B. This story is in third person. It seems better suited for these formats.
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The only thing that saved Nisha from being called a dumb woman was that she was too nice. However there was little doubt that she wasn't the sharpest knife in the cutlery drawer. Not that she didn't have a certain instinctive cunning; more that she was known by all who knew her as exceptionally naïve to the point of breathtaking gullibility.
Her husband, Vivek, despaired. Despite being a successful engineer, he knew he was more than lucky to have such a hot girlfriend. Apart from distinctive long dark locks, she had a stunning figure -- tall, slim and leggy but with enormous firm breasts and a perfect tight arse -- as well as striking dark eyes and delicate features.
However Vivek was constantly having to guard her against sexual advances from virtually every man who met her. He'd lost count of the number of times when, out for a night in the pub, he had returned from the lavatory to find Nisha being chatted up by strangers.
He'd even had to chase away one man who had been fondling her exposed boobs, claiming he was a doctor who had had to give her an emergency breast check. When he asked Nisha why she'd thought he was a doctor, she showed him a beer mat with some scrawled illegible writing on.
"See, he said doctors were famous for having awful writing and then he wrote down my name. And I definitely can't read it," she'd justified.
Luckily for Vivek, Nisha's job as a receptionist for a local hair salon involved very little unsupervised contact with the opposite sex. All the hairdressers were female, as were the vast majority of customers, and the owner, a matronly woman in her 50s, always kept an eye out for anyone trying to trick Nisha into over-familiarity.
Unfortunately, she herself was tricked by her less-than-honest accountant who embezzled enough funds to send the salon into financial ruin and it closed with all the employees losing their jobs.
Although Vivek made enough of an income for Nisha not to have to work, he'd realised that leaving her home all day wasn't a great idea either when, luckily, he'd come home early to find the window cleaner with his hand up her skirt, fingering her pussy.
Nisha had been indignant when Vivek had attacked him and thrown him out.
"I can't believe you did that! He's a poor blind old man. He was just touching me so that he could recognise me in the future."
However she hadn't been able to respond coherently as to how a blind man could be a window cleaner nor why he had needed to feel her cunt and breasts rather than just her face.
"Oh, yeah, I hadn't thought of that. Do you think he was just joking then?"
So Nisha embarked on a job search which was also very stressful for Vivek. Finding a role where her naïveté wouldn't be abused proved to be difficult.
In fact after an interview at a reputable bank, Vivek was dismayed to hear that Nisha had been invited back for a second interview.
"Isn't it exciting," she said, "The personnel woman didn't really like me that much the manager took me aside afterwards and said I needed to go back at 6 o'clock tonight so that he could do a thorough physical in private and if I performed to standard I might be able to get a job!"
She didn't really understand why Vivek refused to let her return.
Eventually however, Nisha did land a job that seemed relatively safe and also one at which she might excel.
Interestingly, the role involved organising lingerie parties for an Anne Summers type networking company called Funky Lady. The customer base was female as were the staff. Despite the racy nature of the products, Vivek couldn't really see how Nisha could get herself into trouble. And the reality was that she loved pretty things, had great taste in clothes and would be a superb model for the underwear. It was this latter fact that had finally persuaded Vivek, particularly as Nisha had promised to give him a private viewing every night.
Nisha for her part was really excited that she'd found a role which she could really enjoy. She thought that Vivek was more than a little overprotective and even a bit prudish sometimes. She was a big girl and she could look after herself!
Which perhaps explained why she didn't tell him about some of Funky Lady's more adult products. They didn't just sell mainstream lingerie but also some more specialised role play costumes such as naughty nurse outfits as well as a range of sex toys and accessories.
What he didn't know wouldn't hurt him, she thought.
Before moving to Canada, Nisha stayed in Bangalore with her husband. This is a story of those times.
N.B. This story is in third person. It seems better suited for these formats.
============================================
The only thing that saved Nisha from being called a dumb woman was that she was too nice. However there was little doubt that she wasn't the sharpest knife in the cutlery drawer. Not that she didn't have a certain instinctive cunning; more that she was known by all who knew her as exceptionally naïve to the point of breathtaking gullibility.
Her husband, Vivek, despaired. Despite being a successful engineer, he knew he was more than lucky to have such a hot girlfriend. Apart from distinctive long dark locks, she had a stunning figure -- tall, slim and leggy but with enormous firm breasts and a perfect tight arse -- as well as striking dark eyes and delicate features.
However Vivek was constantly having to guard her against sexual advances from virtually every man who met her. He'd lost count of the number of times when, out for a night in the pub, he had returned from the lavatory to find Nisha being chatted up by strangers.
He'd even had to chase away one man who had been fondling her exposed boobs, claiming he was a doctor who had had to give her an emergency breast check. When he asked Nisha why she'd thought he was a doctor, she showed him a beer mat with some scrawled illegible writing on.
"See, he said doctors were famous for having awful writing and then he wrote down my name. And I definitely can't read it," she'd justified.
Luckily for Vivek, Nisha's job as a receptionist for a local hair salon involved very little unsupervised contact with the opposite sex. All the hairdressers were female, as were the vast majority of customers, and the owner, a matronly woman in her 50s, always kept an eye out for anyone trying to trick Nisha into over-familiarity.
Unfortunately, she herself was tricked by her less-than-honest accountant who embezzled enough funds to send the salon into financial ruin and it closed with all the employees losing their jobs.
Although Vivek made enough of an income for Nisha not to have to work, he'd realised that leaving her home all day wasn't a great idea either when, luckily, he'd come home early to find the window cleaner with his hand up her skirt, fingering her pussy.
Nisha had been indignant when Vivek had attacked him and thrown him out.
"I can't believe you did that! He's a poor blind old man. He was just touching me so that he could recognise me in the future."
However she hadn't been able to respond coherently as to how a blind man could be a window cleaner nor why he had needed to feel her cunt and breasts rather than just her face.
"Oh, yeah, I hadn't thought of that. Do you think he was just joking then?"
So Nisha embarked on a job search which was also very stressful for Vivek. Finding a role where her naïveté wouldn't be abused proved to be difficult.
In fact after an interview at a reputable bank, Vivek was dismayed to hear that Nisha had been invited back for a second interview.
"Isn't it exciting," she said, "The personnel woman didn't really like me that much the manager took me aside afterwards and said I needed to go back at 6 o'clock tonight so that he could do a thorough physical in private and if I performed to standard I might be able to get a job!"
She didn't really understand why Vivek refused to let her return.
Eventually however, Nisha did land a job that seemed relatively safe and also one at which she might excel.
Interestingly, the role involved organising lingerie parties for an Anne Summers type networking company called Funky Lady. The customer base was female as were the staff. Despite the racy nature of the products, Vivek couldn't really see how Nisha could get herself into trouble. And the reality was that she loved pretty things, had great taste in clothes and would be a superb model for the underwear. It was this latter fact that had finally persuaded Vivek, particularly as Nisha had promised to give him a private viewing every night.
Nisha for her part was really excited that she'd found a role which she could really enjoy. She thought that Vivek was more than a little overprotective and even a bit prudish sometimes. She was a big girl and she could look after herself!
Which perhaps explained why she didn't tell him about some of Funky Lady's more adult products. They didn't just sell mainstream lingerie but also some more specialised role play costumes such as naughty nurse outfits as well as a range of sex toys and accessories.
What he didn't know wouldn't hurt him, she thought.
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